Praesul Presul
by Lammybug
Summary: We dance in circles and we dance through life. What we really want, is to not dance alone.


A/N: Writing two different stories at once wasn't cutting it for me so this one is a bit rushed. I would rather rush this one than the Eclipse one. The background info on this is rather personal. I combined a real life experience with what could happen in the game.

Praesul Presul is latin for "dancer".

_**Praesul Presul**_

It is all just like a dance. Life. Life was a dance. For just like in any dance, there is a beginning, an enchanting moment and an end. The end brings the conclusion and a parting. Some dances are light and soft. The pair dancing merrily to a amicable tune that makes them laugh and be carefree. There are other dances too. Those that are dark and passionate. Two pairs of eyes staring intently and deeply within the other as though a fire were raging within. Then there is another kind of dance. Some would find it very hard to define. One that is not as coordinated and not so easily put together, yet still in sync. The end of which is unpredictable and surprising. Yet, as in all dances, there is the inevitable end. The two must part and dance with another. Sometimes, though, you will find that the pair do not part at the end of the dance. They wait for the next to begin.

We all dance. Whether we are good at it or not. We all find that we dance. Most times, we do not even dance to music. We dance around issues. We dance around fights. We even dance around the dangerous. We are always dancing. Many times we feel we dance alone. Other times, we feel there are too many dancing around. In the end, you want just one other person that is dancing to the very same tune as you. Someone who compliments your moves. Where your movements are always with one another and you wonder how you could have ever danced without them.

We are in a dance right now, her and I. It feels as if I have stopped dancing altogether whenever she is near. There is nothing for me to do but to stop my dance to stare at hers. Seeing her from across the way, so close and yet so far, just beyond my reach. There always seems to be a slight breeze that blows her hair and the way she walks that makes her seem as if she is floating. So graceful and so sure are her movements that she cannot but mesmerize me. Even when she is not in front of me, I can see her in my mind's eye whenever I close my eyes. Even with someone else lying beside me, I feel her. It is not a physical touch, but a feeling. I feel her presence in my mind. It makes dancing with anyone else to be time wasted.

It all seems as if in slow motion when I see her again. It is the stuff of legends and of fairy tales. Full of vibrant color and brilliance. But this is in real life. It is may not be a mere dream or fantasy but it happens just the same. It seems as if everything becomes blurry and unclear except for her. The zooming lens of my eyes always focus intently upon her. They say romance is dead. It most certainly is not dead. It is alive and it is a living, breathing thing whenever she enters the room. It seems an impossibility to ignore her presence whenever she is near. I have tried to ignore the feeling that I get whenever I see her. I try my best to pass off her effect on me, but my firm self control is never enough when it comes to her. It feels as if I am irresistibly drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Sometimes I feel that she is just an illusion. It seems so unfathomable that there is a woman as luminescent as she is. It is the feeling she leaves behind that tells me that she is real. That what I feel is real. I could never feel this way about an illusion. Though we have never spoken, I feel that there is just something about her that I must know. That there is something that I already do know, but my conscious self cannot piece it together just yet. It is hard to when she always stares back. I think she knows more than I do about this thing that has developed between us. She feels whatever we have as much as I do, yet she is not afraid of it. Her acceptance and ease with this makes me feel almost uneasy. If I believed in such things, I would call her an enchantress. For this must be some sort of spell that she so easily ensnares me.

I have often found myself wondering, much later when I am alone, whether others see her as I do. Am I so obvious in my regard for her? No one has mentioned it to me but that is likely because they know I would only give them a cold silence in return. Those closest to me do not mention such things. The knowing looks that I seem to get while I am under her spell seem to be enough of a hint that they are aware. For some reason this does not bother me. So long as I am not alone in being enchanted. For I think she is as much enthralled with me as I am with her. I have always been told that my emotions are never guarded within in my eyes and my eyes are always longing to see more of her. The way she responds to my stare, I know that she cannot stop herself from seeing me either.

We are in the crowds as we always are. I never see her when there are no crowds. I can feel her watching me but I cannot immediately see her. I catch sight of her blonde hair just as it dances out of my sight. There are too many people about and I can only watch as she weaves in and out of the crowds in a careful dance of grace. My every impulse is to go after her, but I am stuck where I am. I cannot get a real glimpse of her, but I know that it is she. The enchanting nymph that seems to capture me and tempt me with her elusive presence. I see a smile gently cross her lips and light her eyes as she continues to maneuver skillfully through the crowds while I remain stuck in the same place. Stuck with too many people vying for my attentions, but there is none left when they are so utterly captivated by her.

She disappears all together and I realize I am a prince and not some poncy school boy and I need to stop staring and focus. I try to find her again but when my eyes do not find her form amongst the sea of bodies, I tighten my jaw and focus. There are others that need to be greeted. I can feel myself regain mastery of my emotions and I give my eyes other things to occupy themselves. As the many throngs of people seem to greet me, a hand stands out at the corner of my vision. I had just been in a small conversation and in pure instinct, I clasp onto that hand as I look at the owner with a greeting on my lips. A greeting that slips away as I realize who's hand it is that I am holding.

I lose my senses all over again. Thought is narrowed down to where my hand is clutching hers. I try to pull her closer but there are just too many people. There is a part of me that realizes that these people are staring and that my mouth is open to say something, but nothing has come out. My voice has vanished in the face of her loveliness. Bright blue eyes stare into mine and I can feel the softness in the skin of her hand. I do not even have the presence of mind to caress it with my thumb to test its silkiness. All I can focus on is that she is here, finally, in front of me and I am touching her. I see her mouth move and I know she has said something but my hearing seems to have gone along with my senses. There is a pause as she waits for a response that I do not have. But she is not offended. The smile she gives me makes my eyes widen and my heart beat loudly. All I can do is drink in her gentle features and notice softness of her hair.

Then she is leaving. She begins to walk away from me. Her eyes do not leave mine as she steps away and I have not let go of her hand just yet. My arm is extended towards her as her small fingers slowly slip away from my grip. I feel that lose immediately and I can only stare at the back of her head as she dances away through the crowd and out of sight.

"Prince Noctis?"

My eyes blink to the voice and see a dignitary that I should be greeting.

"Please, excuse me a moment," I say as I push through the crowds.

No longer can I be immobilized. This has to stop. This time I will speak with her. This time I will stop my solo dance of life and join hers. I try to make out her form amongst the throngs of admiring ladies and scrutinizing men and do not see her at all. There is no glimpse of her on the main floor. I can hear my heart beat as I start to panic. Where has she gone?

Then I feel it. I feel it as surely as she had been in front of me a moment ago. I know where she is. Before I can even name the place in my head I am already standing at the foot of the metal staircase. I glance up and I know for sure that she is there. Carefully, step by step, I make my way up to the top and she slowly comes into view. As I make my way closer to her, she turns around and acknowledges me. I can tell from her face that she has been expecting me all along and I somehow feel that I have kept her waiting long enough.

When she smiles at me, her entire body aglow with it, I know. I know that I shall never dance alone again.

* * *

End Note: For some reason, the analogy of dancing would not go away until I wrote this one out. It was originally going to be from Stella's POV but that one just seemed so… cliched. So I scraped that and brought back an old retelling from my own life and altered it to the Versus verse. I hope you enjoyed!


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